Black Tar Synastry

Black heart

Black as the mountain air

Grey-brained boar;

Lilting in the god-forsaken

Deep into the calibre of your stone-cold synapse

Whistles the blue will.

In the quagmire of your silent eclipse,

The harbinger you lilts in the offing

A chasm.

Coming forth with it's testament;

The hooded marauder erupts

From the soil sorely seeded. 

Deep into the rupture of your ground,

The cadaver of a deer 

With egg-yolk ears pricked into dynamite

The yellow outburst

And the kingdom will come, and your vow will be done.

And I will free among the church glisteners.